


Nightmares That Live

by Thliky



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, PTSD, Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thliky/pseuds/Thliky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean, suffering through nightmares and PTSD, relies on his only other friend in purgatory to help him. </p><p>Dean would always be saving people, just like Castiel would always be saving Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares That Live

**Author's Note:**

> So this was wrote before season 8 aired when we had no idea what was going on with purgatory. I have changed a few bits to coincide with the canon purgatory story line a little more, but I didn't feel it was worth spending too much time on. 
> 
> Just a very short ficlet. There's some gore in there, but not much and it's only in a dream.

White flashes, that burst behind closed eyelids, segregated the different scenes of bloody messes. Unknown creatures fell limply at Dean’s feet and his heart thudded erratically behind his chest. His eyes darted to the new obstacles in his way; their yellow teeth bared, stained with drops of scarlet and dark, endlessly black eyes fixated on him. 

Black balls of matted fur flashed towards him and before Dean could even register what they were, claws ripped in to his warm flesh, teeth sinking into his side, unbearable pain stabbing at his wounds. He tried to hit them off, his arms thrashing wildly, but the monsters ignored Dean’s final, feeble attempts and carried on tearing open gaping wounds through his body. 

It was only a matter of moments until Dean felt his mind start to drift away, his breathing became shallower and his muscles weakened as darkness began to swallow the world. Dean remembered feeling briefly aware that this was it, his life long journey wold end in this dense, endless forest with agony ripping screams from his dried throat. But then he heard it; a blood curdling cry, different from his own, piercing through the air, an anguished scream making him snap back to reality.

“Cas!” Dean managed to choke out in desperation. Adrenalin took over and flushed through his veins; he managed to reach a bloody hand to his fallen weapon a few feet away and with a shaky swing, sent the blade slicing through the air and into the back of the mutt, its grip suddenly loosened and it’s body fell limply on top of him. 

Dean wasted no time in catching his breath and jumped straight to his feet, ignoring the blinding agony piercing his side, and taking an unbalanced running jump onto the identical wolf that was making his way through Cas’ leg.

The scene suddenly broke, fading into the woodland around them, the furry beast Dean had had a tight grip on faded into the muddy ground, and suddenly he was alone, eerie silence deafening him. He warily took to his feet, studying the floor where Cas was once led in a puddle of red, a wolf-like creature tearing him to shreds. He spun around, bewildered, taking in the new scenery; he noticed the thick forest floor disperse into a pebbly bank lining a dark, murky river. He stumbled over to the river, falling to his knees and cupping his hand to lift some water to his face – the water didn’t look clean or safe to drink, but his throat was like sandpaper and his mind in a foggy mess. Dean silently decided this was no time to start fussing over cleanliness.

His face dripped with droplets as he bent over the bank to take another drink, but his reflection stole his attention. Dean’s eyes widened in terror, but his reflection’s eyes stayed steady and unblinkingly staring back up at Dean. The reflection tilted his head, his scaly skin creasing where his pale lips turned in a sadistic smirk. Dean’s jaw fell open, but the reflection just narrowed his fully black eyes on him; it was Dean’s face, but it looked like Frankenstein’s monster, with puckered, scared skin and monstrous features that sent chills up Dean’s spine. The reflection’s smirk broke into a wicked grin before a scaly arm jumped out of the water and wrapped his grip around Dean’s neck, choking the life out of him. Dean gasped for air desperately, his fingers clawing at the arm, but his eyes stayed fixed on the face in the water, as a manic chuckle escaped his pale lips.

Dean woke with a start, his breath catching in his throat as he reached to his neck to make sure the life threatening grip was gone. It was just a nightmare. Of course, parts of it weren’t just his imagination; Dean and Castiel had encountered the wolves not long ago and come close to Cas bleeding to death, but he told himself to be calm anyway. 

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep, long breath to steady his rising pulse, but his eyes snapped back open instantly when he heard a slight rustling in the distance. At home, a sound like that wouldn’t have even made him flinch, but in purgatory everything was a potential threat.

Dean’s eyes scanned the dim cave around him and his hands started feeling through the bed of leaves. “Cas!” he hissed into the air, but only silence replied and anxiety started to rise in his throat as he grasped the air where he should be led. He heard another rustling, this time closer, and the scraping of feet against the damp cave floor where Dean and Castiel had taken refuge. Dean froze for a moment, listening intently to the nights silence, he slowly reached for the knife he kept next to him at all times, a weapon fashioned out of a sharpened rock and reeds. He tightened his grip on the blade, moving slowly onto his feet and tiptoeing his way down the cave, he stayed with his back to the inner wall, keeping his eyes staring intently ahead of him.

Dean paused where the cave wall took a sharp turn; he took a slow intake of breath, feeling his heart beat uncontrollably beneath his dirty clothing. He peered around the corner momentarily; taking note of the figure crouched on the floor several feet away, unmoving. Dean took one more calm breath before jumping out of the shadows of the cave, dagger poised above his head, ready to swipe down on the unsuspecting figure. He paused slightly, squinting into the darkness. 

“Cas?” Dean let out an agitated sigh as he noticed the familiar beige trench coat draped around his hunched shoulder. “Cas, what are you doing?” Dean hissed into the frigid air as his hands fell back down to his sides, the knife still wrapped in a white knuckled grip.

“Laying another trap.” Cas quietly muttered as Dean noticed the strings of reeds that lined the caves mouth, most likely attached to a series of knots and mechanisms. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence; Cas spent a tediously long amount of time setting homemade traps and tripwires to keep any unwanted visitors out. They’d only been in this cave for a week after moving from their last nest and already Cas had made at least fifteen hidden traps despite the fact they’d only be staying for another week at the most before moving on. They had to move camp regularly; it was the safest way to keep the smart ones off their trail. Dean had already come across a handful of demons, who he’d put in Purgatory himself, seeking vengeance and his blood. Laying traps was the only way Cas could help, Dean had spent the past five weeks having one sided arguments with him, trying to get him to fight.

Castiel wasn’t the same fruit case who had come into purgatory but he still wasn’t the old Cas. He was sat stubbornly half way between. There was no happy rambling about bees and flowers, purgatory had managed to squash that part of him, but he wasn’t fit to fight, not yet anyway, he was more withheld and quiet now. He was more like an innocent, wet-eyed kid, starting his first day of school; not sure where to put himself, so he just busies himself with small tasks, doing his best to help.

“Go back to sleep, Cas.” Dean sighed, his words dripping with exasperation.

“I don’t sleep.” Cas muttered, keeping his eyes casted intently on the ground and the string of knotted reeds in his hand.

“Well, I do!” Dean snapped, his voice echoing in the hollow darkness. Castiel froze, he was still reluctant in confrontation – he wouldn’t argue with Dean, never mind fight against the creatures in purgatory.

“Were you having another nightmare?” Cas looked up, his bright, blue eyes studying Dean intently, his voice unwavering.

Dean’s jaw tightened and his eyes deflected to the ground, darting around the cave as Castiel kept a steady stare on him. Dean didn’t answer his question, but he managed to eventually lift his eyes to Cas’ face as his intent gaze locked on to Deans emerald iris’. Dean held his gaze for a few moments too long, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Castiel dropped the string of reeds, making his way to his feet whilst keeping his ocean eyes on Dean’s, he brushed past Dean silently. Dean let out a breath, closing his eyes in a moment of self-loath, before following Castiel around the corner.

Dean fell down next to Castiel, who was already on his back and staring at the ceiling, and turned onto his side so he was facing the angel. Dean closed his eyes, but his muscles stayed tight and he was still on edge, waiting for an attack that wouldn’t come.

“You know, you could at least pretend to be asleep.” Dean huffed trough gritted teeth; Castiel tilted his head towards Dean as their eyes met for a few brief moments. Cas didn’t answer, instead he shrugged off his trench coat and draped it over them both before shifting onto his side so they were both facing one another, their noses only a couple of inches apart. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and pulled him closer, reaching one hand to the back of his head to stroke delicate fingers through the shorter hairs. Dean closed his eyes, letting Cas’ warm breath brush across his cheeks and beckon him back to sleep. 

The nightmares didn’t go when Castiel was around, nothing could put the night terrors at ease, but knowing Cas was there brought a strange comfort. Castiel had come to his rescue so many times before, even if he wasn’t that Castiel anymore, it was reassuring knowing that he was there somewhere deep in the mess which was Cas’ brain.

It was Dean’s job to protect Castiel now; no matter where Dean was, there was always someone he had to save. But this time was different – Dean had to save Cas, but Castiel had his own role in saving Dean. Dean who suffered through night terrors, Dean who had the weight of the world on his shoulders even when he no longer walked the earth. Castiel couldn’t fight, he couldn’t show up in the nick of time and send the demons running, but he could save him from the nightmares, he could save Dean from his own mind, his warm embrace a shield from the terrors that haunted him, someone who would share the crushing weight.

Dean would always be saving people, just like Castiel would always be saving Dean.


End file.
